Tuesday, February 16, 2016


Our profession provides all these positives...music which dances in your heart, singing to greet each hour, stories to weave for delight and awe, and silence, yes much of that for dreaming and meditation, for listening...the silence 'twixt the tone giving shape to the tune.
It's a wonderful life, and a life-affirming profession.

A metaphor for our times

Springlike warmth after the subzero cold! A benediction. Yesterday the goldfinch returned to our feeders after long, long absence. I haven’t seen (although I have heard) a chickadee in months. This past summer, new neighbors cut down a magnificent soaring old pine tree, habitat for so many birds and other creatures which kept our garden alive and colorful. I mourned the tree, and I have mourned the subsequent disappearance of many old friends who formerly visited our backyard feeders. They fled the violent death of a tree which has grown on the edge of our two properties for generations. A metaphor for our times, when wars of all kinds rage.

The gardener longs to till the soil, but must wait a while longer. Meanwhile, the warmth caresses my face and hands as I fill the feeders I have kept stocked as best I could while the weather itself seemed to wage war.

But blessings have returned, and I am grateful for them.